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The Gathering

There was a gathering of time
in odd spaces.

There was a gathering of spaces
seeking my time, your time, our time.

There was a gathering of the Saving Graces
which bid us to lie down with peace
to bloom in time and space.

This was a gathering of hopes and dreams
in a space, in a time
with an individualized saving grace.

In gathering it seems-
if we come with only our individual sense
of time, space and grace-
we will have not gathered at all
and will have only succumbed to Sweet Ironic Irony.

'Place then' he said
'your eyes upon the Sun
and know that life is such that
sometimes you must be the moon.

'Place then' he said' your hand
knowing your space
sometimes
in life
must be our space or no space at all.'

'How' we all said
'is this trick to be done? '

He said 'no trick. It is the essence of all things
not only to change
but to be in essence
more than one thing;
even to be more than two
at the same time.'

'That is why' he said
uplifting his arm
'we can think two different,
even contradictory things
at the same time.
This is not artifact
but essence.
This is nature-
not mistake.

Who I am;
Who are we
is the same query
and the answer is for both:
both are we
and each is I
for all is multiples;
and Revelation;
there is no
Universal Rule
of Consistency;
we live in multiple multiplicities.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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